


Catharsis

by blueelvewithwings



Series: Spanking Sunday [30]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Aftercare, Canonical Character Death, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Declarations Of Love, Grief/Mourning, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Non-Sexual Spanking, Spanking, Therapeutical Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 17:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18299204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueelvewithwings/pseuds/blueelvewithwings
Summary: Ever since he's put an icicle through his father's chest, Len has been shutting himself off, unable to feel. Now he finally asks Mick for help, and Mick sets out to help his partner feel again.OR: In which Mick spanks Len until he cries.





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SophiaCatherine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaCatherine/gifts), [kleptoandpyro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleptoandpyro/gifts).



> //This is number 26 in my consecutive weeks of posting Spanking Sunday fics. 26 weeks, that's exactly half a year! And what better way to celebrate that than with a fic I've been wanting to write since the start, but never could get quite right until now. It's a shame to only get to the Coldwave so late in this series, but they get a place of honour for that now~  
> Happy Spanking Sunday!

The more Mick thought about it, the more he was sure that it had all started with Snart finally pulling the trigger on his old man. He had been quiet since then, and barely reacted to anything at all. He wasn’t interested in watching TV or in pulling heists, last week he’d helped an old lady across the street and hadn’t even taken her wallet. He was indifferent to Mick’s cooking, even if Mick went out of his way to make Len’s favourites. Mick set a fire in the backyard just to rile him up, but Len hadn’t even come outside to look what was smoking up their yard.

Mick was starting to get pretty fed up with it, but he had no idea how to get through to Snart. He would just shrug Mick off and tell him he was “peachy” and then retreat into the bedroom. He didn’t seem to be doing much at all, and it was so atypical for Len that Mick started feeling antsy. But nothing seemed to help. Len would just sit on the couch for hours and stare into space, or spend a whole day reading one magazine. Nothing seemed to catch his interest still, though. Mick would have enlisted Lisa’s help, but she had decided that no they were free of their trashbag of a father she’d sell his house and all his belongings and make her way on a world trip.

“I wanna steal some gold from every country I visit”, she’d told Mick with a grin, then tossed a concerned glance in Snart’s direction before scowling and stalking off. The Snart siblings were even worse at feelings than Mick was.

Mick had no idea what to do anymore, how to get Snart back into moving and being his own self again. When the rest of the Rogues were around he was a little more alive, though Mick could clearly see that it was just a front, a mask that fell the moment the others were out of the door again.

Something had to be done, but Mick had no idea where to start. He was pretty close to breaking into STAR labs and threatening either the cute speedster or the cute doctor into somehow helping him when Snart himself finally broke through his shell.

“Mick”, he whispered, but in the silent room it rang as loud as if he’d have yelled.

“Mick, I don’t feel anything. Help me feel something again, Mick.”

Mick was tempted to hit him over the head with his beer bottle and tell him that he’d feel pain then, but even his emotionally stunted self could realise that this was not the way to go. But maybe pain would not be the worst option… as long as it was the right kind of pain.

“What d’you need, then?” he asked and took a long pull from his bottle, emptying it before he put it back on the table. “Pretty sure burns won’t be as great for you.” Mick himself was no stranger to holding a lighter to his forearm to make himself feel again, but he’d rather freeze himself solid than do that to his Len.

“Just… not sure.” Len shrugged a little and looked away. He had that concentrated look in his eyes that he often had when he was trying to say something difficult. For all that Len was a master of words when it came to crime, saying personal things was as difficult for him as words in general were for Mick.

“I think… I think I need to grieve him. That’s what a shrink would say. He’s an asshole, and I’m glad he’s gone, but.” He shrugged, a little helplessly, and grabbed a bottle of beer in clear frustration, chugging down almost half of it at once.

Yeah, a shrink would say that indeed. And as much as Mick didn’t like them, they often had a point. So Mick took the beer bottle out of Snart’s hands and calmly put it back on the table. He then took Len’s arm and pulled him over until he was draped over Mick’s lap, one of Mick’s hands firmly planted in the small of his back to keep him there.

“I’m going to give you a spanking then. Heard it can help you feel again or some shit. Gonna make you cry, Snart. Safeword’s Heat Gun. That alright?”

He could feel Len still on his lap, first in confusion and then in preparation for some protesting. He could already see it in his mind’s eye, Len drawing himself up, turning around and drawling at Mick how he dared even thinking about this. But instead, Len tensed and then relaxed again, giving a tired shrug.

“Whatever. It’s worth a try, I guess.”

That was not a very enthusiastic response, but Mick would take it for now. Snart didn’t care about anything these days, so quiet acquiescense would have to do.

“Safeword, Snart?”

He could almost hear Len’s eyes rolling, but he obligingly answered anyway. “Heat Gun. Get on with it, Mick.”

For that flippant reaction, Mick almost wanted to shove him off and tell him to find someone else to do it, but he also knew that it was just Len’s way of being. They had been partners for long enough so that even Mick could pick up social clues from Len. It still gave him a headache, but he could read his partner almost perfectly now.

So instead of pushing Len away and stalking off to the bedroom Mick took a deep breath and made sure Len was placed over his lap as securely as it would go before bringing his hand down. Len had spanked Mick plenty of times, it wasn’t something they were into super much but Mick liked to be pulled out of his head every once in a while, and Lenny always got off on being in charge no matter what form that took. But he’d always refused to switch their roles. Just walking past him and casually clapping him on the ass had gotten Mick a Cold Gun in his face and on one memorable occasion an elbow to his nose so harshly he’d had to go into emergency surgery to have his face put back on. He’d learned his lesson after that. Len’s ass was off limits.

So now he was more careful than he’d be with anyone else, taking Len over his lap fully clothed and very mindful of where his partner’s arms and hands were. He didn’t need another elbow to the face, thank you very much.

Len let out a grunt at the first spank, but didn’t react in any other way. Mick could see his hands clenching a throw pillow, some ridiculous Flash merchandise that Lisa had gotten him for his last birthday. He was gripping it so hard that his knuckles were white, and what little sliver of his face Mick could see from this angle was a clenched mask of pain, but Mick also knew that that could not be from the one slap he’d delivered so far. He pulled his hand back and let it come down again, earning himself another grunt.

“Until you’re crying, Snart, and each one harder than the last” he told him and brought his hand down again, a bit harder than the times before. There was no answer, but just another grunt.

Well, if Len wanted to be silent during this, he totally should, Mick wouldn’t force him to talk.

Mick took his time to warm them up, to space out the spanks all over Len’s ass, and he only took a break to lift Len’s hips enough so he could undo his belt and carefully slide his jeans down over his ass, leaving him in just his boxers.

Len let him just maneuver him around, which was very unlike him, but Mick let it slide for now. They were working on things, after all. Once his jeans were down he went straight back to spanking him, through a thin layer of cotton this time instead of through the thick layer of jean fabric. Len immediately started gasping and twitched as if he wanted to twist out of Mick’s hold, but he didn’t.

He did, however, reach back and caught Mick’s wrist just a few spanks in, and his voice sounded almost desperate when he spoke.

“Take it off.”

Mick shook his head, wondering what the hell he was on about. He hadn’t really warmed him up any more in order to justify taking off his underwear as well, after all.

“The boxers. Take them off.” Snart’s voice really had an edge to it now, as if he was about to start crying, but from reasons other than the spanking, so Mick quickly obliged and lifted Len’s hips to pull his boxers down as well. He took a deep breath as he let his eyes roam over the soft, pale skin now spread out in front of him and allowed himself a moment to delight in the fact that he was about to turn it a great shade of pink and put some _burn_ on it.

Then he lifted his hand and let it come down, making sure to send a nice wiggle through that ass. Len made an aborted choking sound and clenched his pillow even tighter. Mick raised his hand and brought it down again, this time on Len’s other cheek.

“He only ever did it through the underwear”, Len murmured, and before Mick could be sure if he heard right he let his head drop down, burying it in the pillow even as Mick’s continued spanks rocked him back and forth.

If Mick could, he’d dig Lewis back up, find someone to revive him and then kill him again. For one long, scary second he desperately wished he could be Chronos again, just so he could take Len and let him watch Lewis being killed over and over and over again. But then he took a deep breath and pushed it aside. Lewis fucking Snart was not worthy of so much thought, especially not now that he’d finally made it to the other side. He exhaled and brought his hand down harshly.

“Good for him he’s not alive anymore, or I’d fucking turn him to ashes.”

What he got in response for that was a little broken laugh, and that sound alone made Mick want to pull Len into his arms and do unspeakable, mushy, feelings-laden things to him, but he knew that Len wasn’t ready for that, so he just kept on spanking him. His ass started turning nice and pink, and it was warming up considerably under Mick’s ministrations, but Len remained stubbornly quiet now, buried in his pillow and clenching his fists into it.

He only let out a tiny whimper when Mick started bringing his hand down harsher again, and Mick could even detect a minuscule flinch.

“Still my father though...” came the whisper after a little while, muffled almost completely by the pillow and the sounds of the spanking.

“Sperm donor and abuser, yeah. That combo doesn’t make for a father, Snart.”

And somehow it seemed to be that sentence that did it. Suddenly it was as if floodgates had opened, and he had a sobbing Snart on his lap, crying into that wretched pillow, loudly and with ugly hiccups, and Mick tossed all caution about Snart’s personal space in the wind as he pulled him up and into his lap, and Snart just tossed his arms around him and continued crying into Mick’s shoulder.

And Mick, impatient as though he normally was, let him.

He’d sit here for days and let Len cry on him if it would make his partner feel better in the end. That was what partners were for, after all. Or something like that, at least.

“I couldn’t even protect Lisa”, Len whispered after a while, still sobbing, but a little bit more quietly now.

“Nah. You done good, she’s turned out alright just because of you, Lenny.” Normally he’d risk immediate death by Absolute Zero for that pet name, but now he just heard a broken chuckle and the arms around his neck tightened.

“She deserved so much better...”

“So did you, Snart. He’s gone now. He can’t hurt either of you anymore.” Just in the nightmares that Len still had, but Mick had sworn himself that he’d always be there to help deal with the nightmares, and that was one promise he intended to keep. All the world could go fuck itself, but Len and Lisa, they were important. They were important, and Mick would do all that he could to make sure they were alright.

Carefully he stood from the sofa, and he was surprised when instead of standing and walking beside him, Len continued clinging and just wrapped his legs around Mick’s waist to let himself be carried. Well, that certainly was no problem for Mick. He was strong, after all, and he’d carry Len in his arms much more often if his prickly partner would allow for that.

The way to the bathroom was a bit slower than usual with his precious cargo, but soon Mick had them under the shower, both of them naked and Len still clinging to Mick. He’d only let go for long enough so that Mick could quickly take off both their shirts and then he’d gone right back to clinging and sniffling in Mick’s shoulder. He wasn’t openly crying anymore by now, but to Mick it seemed like he was still floating, caught somewhere between calming down and floating on the high of having his ass burn like that and still being torn up about the shitbag’s death. Mick thought there was not a single reason to shed even the fraction of a tear over the asshole. But he wasn’t dumb, he knew that he was Snart’s father and that Snart was attached to him despite everything. His shrink had tried to explain the whole thing to him, how people always tried to please their abusers and shit, but he hadn’t really listened. He’d been busy keeping himself from walking out and turning Lewis Snart into a pile of ashes for the scratch that had appeared on Lisa’s collarbone just a few days before. Really, his shrink should have focused on that.

It was a good thing he hadn’t done it, though. Once he got over it, Mick was sure Len would like that he got his revenge on his old man in himself and that he hadn’t just watched as someone else did the job for him. Len was a leader and liked to delegate, but like a true leader, he did the most important things himself.

He carefully held Len now as they stood under the warm spray, and he found himself swaying them a little and humming under his breath, his cheek leaned against the short stubble on Len’s head. Len had stopped crying, but his breath was still coming out in little puffs and sounding a little too wet. Mick raised a hand to stroke the back of his head, and Len let out a little purr as if he was an overgrown cat. Despite himself, Mick found himself smiling, and he let them both stand there until the water ran cold, just holding each other, being grounded and finding comfort.

When he pulled Len out of the shower stall Len was finally lucid enough to step away from him for just a bit, eyes red and puffy, and his face was much too open, displaying much too many emotions as he let Mick wrap him up in a towel. As soon as they were wrapped up he stepped forward and into Mick’s arms again, burying his face in Mick’s neck.

“Thank you” he whispered, and Mick just pulled him closer in response, holding him tightly for a few moments until he let go again.

“Let’s get you in pyjamas and into bed before you freeze on me” he grumbled, but he knew that he was fooling absolutely no one with his grumpy attitude. He knew that Snart was smiling even though he couldn’t see his face right now, and then he could feel a slender hand sliding into his calloused one and giving it a squeeze.

“Come on then.” Len still sounded a bit subdued, but it seemed to be getting better. He tugged Mick’s hand and led them over to the bedroom. They even stayed separated for long enough to put on pyjamas and crawl into bed before Len snuggled up to Mick again, openly and without his usual pretense of ‘the heater is broken and it’s cold and you’re putting out a lot of heat’. No, he just snuggled up to Mick’s side and let his head rest on Mick’s bare chest. Mick only put on pyjama bottoms because Len insisted, anyway, otherwise he’d just sleep in the nude. His chest always remained free though, and Len curled up on it with a content sigh now.

“Feeling better?” Mick asked him and let his hand gently stroke Len’s back. He could feel how relaxed his partner was under his hand, and it caused Mick more joy than he’d ever care to admit.

He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation of just touching, cuddling, being close to one another, so he felt Len’s shrug, but didn’t see it.

“Feeling again, at least. That’s a start, I guess.”

Yeah, Mick thought, it was a start.

“Feeling’s good, my shrink says.”

“Yeah, mine too. Keep telling her it’s bullshit, but she might be on to something.”

Mick just hummed in response, even though he knew it was true. Generally, shutting himself off from all emotions didn’t go all that well in the end, and it had almost cost him his relationship with Len a few times, so he tried his best now. His best usually was not very much, but he was trying, and Snart was trying too, so they met somewhere in the middle. A relationship was always giving and taking, after all, or so his shrink said.

“Hey, Mick?”

Mick opened his eyes again to see Lenny propped up on his elbows, looking down at Mick through his swollen, puffy eyes with intense concentration.

“Yeah?”

“You know I...” Len sighed and looked away, but then looked back at Mick with determination written all over his face. “You know I love you, right?”

Mick let out a little sigh and brought his hands up to frame Len’s face. It was such a beautiful face, especially when it was so open, finally displaying everything that was going on behind it. So beautiful and raw, and so gorgeous when twisted into the mask of a dangerous criminal. Mick wanted to sink into it and never look at anything else again for his entire life. He’d be happy to only ever look at Len and worship his face.

“Yeah, I know” he whispered and tugged until Len bent down and their lips met in a kiss. Chaste, sweet, and much too open – everything they normally didn’t do.

“And I love you.”

If he even knew what love was, anymore, but he was pretty sure that the feeling of ‘I want this forever, I want to spend every day at your side and make you the happiest you can be’ that he felt when he thought about Len counted as love.

And who would have thought that two hardened criminals like them might find love, and that their criminal partnership would extend into their private lives, into friendship, into a relationship, and finally bloom into love. He wasn’t the most intelligent, Mick knew that, but he also knew that stopping that one guy with a shiv back in their juvie days must have been the smartest move he’d made all his life.

Len was smiling at him now, and they shared another sweet kiss before Len curled up against Mick’s side again, petting the hair on Mick’s chest. Or the part of the hair that hadn’t been burned off, at least.

“I hear they’re putting the gravestone on his grave next week. No idea who paid for it. I wanna go there.”

“You wanna go there?” Mick raised an eyebrow but nestled himself a bit deeper into the pillows, staring at the ceiling instead of looking at Len. If Len wanted to go see the asshole’s resting place and say goodbye, he’d go with him, of course. For Len’s sake, he’d even keep himself from just setting the whole thing on fire.

“Yeah. I wanna go there.” Mick could hear the custom drawl crawling back into Len’s voice, and he didn’t need to see him to know he was smirking.

“I wanna go there and piss on his grave, and then you can set it on fire.”

Mick was quiet for a moment, letting the image come up before his inner eye, picturing the flowers and dried branches that must be lying around the grave, and the trees surrounding it. Len had not gone to the funeral, but Mick had snuck there and looked on from a distance just so he could tell Len about it should he ask about it later. Lisa had been there, acting the grieving daughter, and then Mick distinctly recalled her waiting until everyone was gone before spitting in the grave.

Mick loved Lisa almost as much as he loved Len.

He gave a little hum when he realised it had been a while since Len had spoken, and then opened his eyes, looking down to meet Len’s icy blue ones.

“Sounds great. Let’s do it.”


End file.
